


at least this

by orphan_account



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 06:28:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I was so sure it was just me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	at least this

Tetsuya kisses him first.

It's late and they can feel the beginnings of coldness seeping into the backs of their thighs but the room is thick with minute noises: Kagami's quiet, huffed exhales that sound annoyed even when his eyes are flicking behind their lids, Aomine's exaggerated snoring and the occasional twitch of his hands and legs as if he's attempting to play basketball even in his sleep, Nigou's muffled snuffling and the click of his nails on the kitchen tile, and the soft murmuring from the pause screen on the game they've been playing most of the night. It feels strangely like home, Tetsuya thinks as he debates on curling his hands into the hem of the tattered shirt Kise borrowed from Kagami or tapping the tips of his fingers just under Kise's chin so he can run his fingers along the bottom of Kise's glossed lips. The sharp intake of breath the blond takes pulls at a sharp, nervous feeling in Tetsuya's gut and he can almost feel his throat tightening around choked apologies and he wants to turn away already; he hasn't even moved close yet and the desire to hit the heel of his palm against Kise's forehead is almost outweighing the want— _need_ —to lean in and whisper at least this against Kise's warm skin.

“Kurokocchi?”

He counts the thready number of beats between his pulse and is acutely aware of embarrassed flush crawling up to his cheeks; and, even in his confusion, Kise looks too pretty. Testuya chokes back his words— _I truly do hate you sometimes_ , _I don't understand how you can say these things so easily_ , _why_ you _, Kise-kun_ —and leans forward, curls his hand along the back of Kise's neck to play with still wet strands of hair, and tries to ignore the sudden flurry of panic uncurling somewhere in the spaces between his heart and his lungs. Kise tastes like soda and the leftover cherry ice cream Kagami had muttered curses about before serving it to all of them with a vague threat if he still had the container by the time he kicked them out in the morning; and it seems strange to be doing this, to hold Kise still under his sweaty palms and contemplate whether or not he should use tongue or if he should step back and stumble towards his room and hope he doesn't trip on Kagami or Aomine.

Kise pulls back before Tetsuya can decide if he can place the taste of Kise's lip gloss—is it the same as Momoi's—and in the dim light and the angle of Tetsuya's upturned chin, he cannot see if the glint in Kise's eyes is something he would recognize. The blond breathes out shakily and the console controller's light flickers off as the pause screen music suddenly seems too quiet compared to the nervous up-tick of Tetsuya's heartbeat and the brief exhale of a laugh it startles past his lips.

“You're so mean, Kurokocchi,” Kise murmurs, his voice tremulous and thick and almost broken, before turning away to wipe his mouth on the back of his wrist. His shoulders shake. “You shouldn't joke like that.”

Tetsuya curls his fingers into the sleeves of his shirt and watches the silent twitch of Kise's shoulders. He blinks hard and turns away to stare at the edge of the coffee table and the dirty bowls of half-melted, too sweet ice cream placed near the far corner so Aomine wouldn't kick them over onto the floor. Tetsuya sighs. “I would not make jokes about this, Kise-kun.” For a moment, there is a pause of uncertainty whether he is thankful or relieved that his voice does not shake around the words. He almost reaches out to press his palm between Kise's shoulder blades when the other boy leans forward, elbows pressed into his thighs as he mumbles into his hands. “Kise-kun,” Tetsuya says quietly, “I did not mean to upset you.”

Kise laughs, the noise sounds unkind, bitter, and bleak. “Ah, Kurokocchi, you're so confusing.” He rests his chin along the back of folded palms and makes a quiet noise that causes an uncomfortable, cold knot to form in Tetsuya's stomach. “I was so sure it was just me.”

“I thought that too,” Tetsuya says softly. “I think I changed my mind quite some time ago.” He reaches out, skims his fingertips over Kise's hunched shoulder, and feels a pang of guilt at how the other shakes at the touch. “I apologize for any grief I have caused you.”

“You'll kill me one day.” There are tears in Kise's eyes when he turns to look at Tetsuya. “And I'm not sure how I feel about that, Kurokocchi.”

Tetsuya's voice catches at the raw emotion catching along Kise's words and he stares, confused and blindsided by the happiness that lilts back into the other boy's voice and _how can you forgive so easily?_ The question sits at the back of his tongue, bitter and tinged with a desperation that pricks at the back of Tetsuya's throat like the lingering carbonation of a too sweet soft drink. But the smile that Kise offers him when he leans back is so open, he asks the only other question he can think of,

“May I kiss you, Kise-kun?”


End file.
